


'They call me the midnight barber.'

by naboolio (Naboolio)



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: First Time, Fluff, Howard being awkward, Howard being innapropriately turned on, M/M, Smut, Vince is a hideous tease, and it became smut, and then it became cute, hot hair cutting action, i wanted something cute, true best friends spoon each other, use of the phrase 'glittery tart'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 21:59:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7072102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naboolio/pseuds/naboolio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Howard wakes to find Vince at work on his hair. Hilarity/awkwardness/Other Stuff ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'They call me the midnight barber.'

It was the clap that woke Howard up. 

Not, unusually, the light being switched on, or the proximity of Vince’s face to his, or being propped up into sitting position, or the sensation of having his hair rearranged and trimmed. No, what jerked Howard Moon awake was Vince Noir clapping delightedly at his own handy work.

His eyes flew open and for a long moment he and Vince stared at each other, taking in the situation. His brain took a while to catch up with the evidence provided by his eyes, but then -

‘ARE YOU CUTTING MY SODDING HAIR?’

Vince straightened up, giggling. ‘Sorry Howard. Couldn’t resist. It was getting unruly again. Your silken locks were due a visit from the midnight barber.’ He snipped his scissors together a few times and winked.

‘I feel violated.’

Vince grinned and perched on the end of Howard’s bed. Howard shuffled back, to avoid the possibility of their limbs touching.  
‘It looks good though,’ Vince said, admiring his masterpiece from a new angle.  
‘Not the point. You’ve broken a code, a sacred bond sir. You’ve betrayed Howard Moon’s trust and let me tell you, he never forgets.’  
‘What are you, an elephant?’  
‘Very clever, yeah, very funny,’ Howard said, rolling his eyes. Vince failed to hide his amusement. Howard looked at the clock - 2.40 am. Further evidence that Vince was actually nocturnal. ‘Could you maybe get out, now?’

Vince stood up, still laughing. ‘Alright, alright, I’m going. Goodnight Howard. Don’t let the barbers bite.’ He brandished his scissors menacingly. Howard sighed and shook his head and Vince’s expression changed suddenly, his eyes now fixed on Howard’s hair.  
‘What? What is it? What?’ Howard asked, putting his hands on his head in panic.  
‘I just spotted a bit that’s uneven,’ Vince said slowly. He started to approach, walking carefully, as if Howard was a badger he was worried about scaring.  
‘No. No way.’  
‘Oh go on Howard! Let me finish what I started.’ Vince grew closer and closer and Howard began to shrink down under the duvet.  
‘Stop it.’  
‘Please Howard. It’s gonna bother me otherwise.’  
‘It’s not your hair!’  
‘But I’m the one that has to look at it every day while you’re going about your business, sitting on your head like damp wool. At least let me even it out.’  
Vince could tell he was winning. Howard was now so far submerged in bed that only his eyes were visible.  
‘Okay, fine,’ came the muffled, reluctant reply. 

Howard sat up awkwardly. Vince beamed at him.  
‘Be nice to do this while you’re awake,’ he said cheerily, picking up his comb from Howard’s bedside cabinet. ‘I can get a proper look at the back.’  
‘How often do you do this, Vince?’ Howard asked, in disbelief.  
‘Don’t ask questions you don’t wanna know the answers to. Turn around, please.’

Howard obediently shuffled round so that he was sitting, cross legged, with his back towards Vince, who was now kneeling on the bed. He gently ran the comb through Howard’s hair. Howard inhaled sharply.  
‘Sorry, have I got cold hands?’ Vince asked, unaware of the sharp electricity Howard felt at Vince’s touch.  
‘No, no, you’re fine,’ Howard said, attempting to sound casual. 

Howard didn’t really like people touching him. As a result of that, and his awkwardness around touching others, this sort of contact was quite rare. Vince, the party going, friendly, bisexual sunshine creature was not fazed by affection or touching at all, and did not consider that Howard would find having hands on his head and neck exciting or unusual. Things weren’t helped by the occasional brushing of Vince’s body against Howard’s back, as he moved forwards or steadied himself.

It wasn’t until about five minutes later, when Vince asked Howard to turn and face him, that Howard realised he was hard. He had, purely by accident, glanced down at his crotch, and seen, to his horror, the unmistakable bulge through his light blue pyjama bottoms. 

Shit.

Howard sat completely still, trying to work out what to do next.  
‘Come on Howard,’ Vince said impatiently. ‘Pyjamas, hot chocolate and cartoons await me.’  
This image did not help. Howard forced a laugh, still staring determinedly ahead. ‘You are eight years old.’  
‘And you’re eighty. Spin your ancient arse round, so I can finish the front.’  
‘Hey, less of the ancient, little man.’

What, actually, was his plan here? Stall until his erection went down? Didn’t seem ideal, somehow. He considered his options and attempted to weigh up the pros and cons of each possible course of action. Try to hide it? Run out of the room screaming? Set fire to something? Just get over it and turn round?  
After what felt like ten minutes of build up, (but what was actually about fifteen seconds) Howard shuffled round to face Vince. He hoped desperately that he wouldn’t notice, and that if he did, he wouldn’t say anything. 

Vince noticed.

Howard saw his friend’s eyes shoot downwards and then back up quickly, and he blushed fiercely. He stared straight ahead, as Vince cleared his throat and began to comb the front of his hair. The silence seemed heavy, now, with both of them very aware of the unspoken reality of the situation.

Then, Vince rested his hand on Howard’s thigh. 

Howard’s eyes widened in shock. He looked at Vince’s face for the first time since the haircut had started and saw that Vince was concentrating very hard on one strand of Howard’s hair, combing it one handed, making a point of not meeting his eyes. Howard looked forward again, with no idea what was going on.

Vince removed his hand to pick up his scissors and cut the loose curl he was holding. He put the scissors down, and replaced his hand, this time slightly closer to Howard’s crotch. Howard thought he might explode. Still combing, still not looking at what he was doing, still pretending not to be painfully aware of Howard’s cock, Vince squeezed Howard’s inner thigh. Howard bit his lip to stop himself moaning. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. 

Carefully, gingerly, deliberately, Howard placed his shaking hand on top of Vince’s. 

Vince’s eyes snapped down to meet Howard’s.  
‘So,’ croaked Howard, slightly embarrassed by how terrified he was.  
Vince laughed loudly, and the strange knot in Howard’s stomach untied in an instant. ‘So?’ he said, incredulously. ‘That’s your big line?’  
‘What’s the matter with that?’ he replied, suddenly defensive.  
‘I was expecting to be seduced,’ Vince said, dropping the comb and scissors on the floor. ‘I was expecting erotic jazz poetry.’ He crossed his legs too, and sat so that their knees were touching. Howard noticed Vince’s erection pressing through his skin tight black jeans.  
‘You don’t need to seduce someone whose hand is an inch from your cock, you glittery tart.’  
Vince pretended to gasp in horror, but failed to keep a straight face and started to laugh. Then Howard did too - at Vince, at himself, at the ridiculousness of the situation, and because even though Vince made him more at ease than anyone else, he was still very nervous.

And then, they were kissing. 

It was frantic and clumsy - Vince’s extensive experience and Howard’s complete lack of it had collided with terrible results. But it didn’t matter. Vince didn’t want a brilliant kisser, he wanted Howard, and Howard didn’t want someone to teach him patiently, he wanted Vince. They grabbed each other wherever they could reach, not really knowing what was going to happen next, but very keen to find out. 

Without breaking the kiss, Vince climbed on Howard’s lap and wrapped his legs round his waist. They swayed backwards and forwards slightly - both were kissing with such intensity and force that it was pushing them off balance. Vince started to grind his crotch against Howard’s, causing them both to moan slightly. Vince saw this as a sign to speed up, so he did, rocking quickly back and forth against Howard’s cock, and Howard gasped, throwing his head back and biting his lip. Vince kissed his neck, while his hands snaked down into Howard’s pyjama bottoms. Howard moved his own hands to unzip Vince’s jeans, and then kissed him hungrily, as both of them slowly moved into a rhythm. 

They came together, out of breath and flushed, and Vince rested his forehead against Howard’s shoulder. Howard hesitated, then kissed him on the cheek. Vince smiled.  
‘You soppy tit,’ he said, sitting up.  
Howard went even redder (Vince was baffled) and started to apologise.  
‘Sorry, I didn’t - ’  
‘ - I’m joking, you nutball.’  
Howard closed his mouth and nodded. ‘Obviously I knew that, yeah.’

Vince shook his head slightly, laughing. He clambered ungracefully off Howard’s lap and for the first time looked uncertain.  
‘Do you, er, still want me to leave?’ He asked, looking around the room in what he hoped was a casual fashion.  
‘Do you still want to leave?’ Howard asked, quite a bit more seriously.

There was a beat of silence, where both tried to work out what the other was thinking. Howard took a deep breath.

‘If you didn’t at least stay for a cuddle I’d feel like a prostitute,’ Howard said, with false confidence.  
Vince laughed and visibly relaxed. ‘You are a prostitute,’ he mumbled, undoing his jeans. Howard played up to this, unbuttoning his pyjamas slightly and laying in a ‘seductive’ position. He waggled his eyebrows and Vince threw his tshirt at him. 

Vince, naked but for a pair of boxers, turned off the light and got into Howard’s bed.  
‘Come here, you tiny eyed freak,’ he said, wrapping his arms around Howard tightly. Howard did not know what this meant for the future of their friendship, or how he felt about it, or what was going to happen in the morning. He did know however, very suddenly but with absolute certainty, that he was happier in Vince’s arms than he was anywhere else on planet earth.


End file.
